


Master Jinn's Lightsaber

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [279]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 00:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14659275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: Danny Walker sends Quinn a meaningful gift.





	Master Jinn's Lightsaber

**Author's Note:**

  * For [picavenger14](https://archiveofourown.org/users/picavenger14/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta Helen   
> Laura McEwan for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3   
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia 
> 
> Arcadian References:  
> [Mastery](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793575)  
> [Old Quebec ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4168890)  
> [Christmas in Williamsburg (Revised) ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276173)

Ian let out an excited whoop.

When he picked up the mail after work on Friday, May 11th, he found a package from Danny Walker addressed to Quinn that the postman had left propped up by the foot of their mailbox, since it couldn't fit inside. It wasn't either of their birthdays or anniversaries, so it was an unexpected delight. Neglecting the rest of the mail, he ran inside the house to give it to his herven.

The professors had just finished submitting their final grades to the registrar earlier that evening at Luke, so Artoo and Sandy were spending the night with the Changs. The men didn't like to leave the puppies at home without them for such a long stretch of time, and their green grade rosters had taken from about 7 am until almost 8 o'clock at night to complete.

So the men couldn't wait to decompress at home. And now, Ian had brought a little something new into their private ecosystem -- this intriguing box from Danny, one of Quinn's successful former doctoral candidates. He'd been Danny's dissertation advisor for a few years back in the mid-2000s, and the professors had kept in touch with him through the years.

While Ian had checked the mail, Quinn used the time wisely. He'd already changed into his spring-weekend uniform of a Skyhawks t-shirt and heather-grey shorts. Ian could tell that he had washed his face because a glistening shimmer of water was still on his cheeks. His hair was in a ponytail, wrapped by the leather tie Ian had given him, so he looked cooler than a cucumber. He strolled out of the bedroom to meet Ian, relaxation written all over him, from his face all the way down to his moccasined feet.

Ian was still in his work uniform of short-sleeved, button-down shirt and slacks, but both of them looked equally scrumptious to each other. When Ian saw Quinn walking towards him, he looked him up and down -- mostly up -- and said, "Hubba, hubba, hubby!", which made Quinn let out a carefree laugh. Then Ian gave his husband an appreciative grin and also gave him the box.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, now, laddie," Quinn rumbled. "Stay with me in the here and now." He put the package down on the coffee table and took Ian into his arms. "We need to take a Moment for our own private celebration of the end of this semester." So saying, he brushed his lips over Ian's forehead, precisely along the crease between his brows, then trailed his lips down his herven's nose, dabbing his tongue into Ian's philtrum, and giving him a "School's Out for the Summer" kiss on the mouth.

"Whatever's in the box can't possibly be as good as this," Quinn murmured, giving a lingering lick to Ian's dimple that emphasized his words.

Ian nodded happily into his husband's chest, feeling the old cotton of his Hawks shirt soft against his cheek. "You got that right."

Quinn gave a gentle laugh and rubbed his bare lower thigh into Ian's linen pants, feeling a pleasant crisp coolness whisper over the little hairs there. "Ah, the perks of changing into shorts already."

"And the perks of creamy linen pressing into creamy skin," Ian said, his tone as sensuous as what he was describing. "Glad I haven't changed into my shorts yet." He used his slacks to caress Quinn's leg from thigh to knee to calf, a long drink of water. A happy hum from Quinn was his instant reward.

Ian was now delighted that his curiosity about the contents of the package had been even stronger than his desire to get comfortable for the weekend; the blissful look on his husband's face from his caresses was all he needed to see to convince him of it.

"Computing grades is thirsty work. Let's have a drink before we open the package," Quinn suggested.

Ian's eyes danced. "Anticipation will make it all the sweeter."

They walked into the kitchen, and Quinn turned on the lights. "What's your pleasure, m'lad?" he said.

"Do we still have some of that mango lemonade you made yesterday?" asked Ian. He'd had two cups when they'd come home from Luke the day before and knew Quinn had drunk at least that much.

Quinn opened the refrigerator to check if the pitcher was still there. "Yes, we do. Looks like we have enough for at least three cups." He took the lemonade out and was about to close the door when he saw an unexpected treat. "Hey! There's still one slice of Violet's Key lime pie left. Thought you finished it for a late-night snack last night. Another unexpected treat for today." He set the pitcher on the kitchen table, then went back for the pie.

"Well, we'll certainly finish it now," Ian said eagerly. They'd shared a quick dinner of burgers, fries, and vanilla milkshakes from Oppo's in their office, but that was over four hours ago by now. He got out tall glasses and poured the lemonade, while Quinn put the pie on a plate and brought two forks.

They sat down at the table and took the first sip.

"Mmmmm. You were right -- I'm parched." Ian drank some more, then gave out a happy sigh.

"Nothing better on a beautiful May evening," said Quinn with satisfaction. Fridays always brought out the smiles in him, particularly this one, the last Friday of the school year.

Ian said, "Love the way you make it with just the right blend of brown and raw sugar. Tastes better and it's better for us." He licked his lips, knowing this was the perfect time and place for it -- the start of a relaxing weekend at home.

Quinn nodded. "When we were in Quebec, I developed a taste for it. Remember the variegated sugar crystals that tasted like rock candy?"

"How could I forget?" Ian said reminiscently. "The crystals were in shades of cream, tan, and brown. They looked like bits of polished rock."

How fitting that the hues of the Jedi would give the men sustenance and color their memories.

Violet's pie was as light as air, with a top layer of meringue, and complemented their lemonade perfectly. They savored each crumb of pie and every drop of lemonade. After they finished their snack and drinks, Quinn washed the dishes and Ian dried them, as usual.

They sat down on the couch, and Quinn reached for the box, finally letting his eagerness and curiosity show. It had a return address of Australia, since Danny and his wife, Amy Dahlia Walker, nee Paddington, were now living in Queensland, where she'd grown up. Quinn opened the package carefully because he planned to give the colorful stamps to Han, who was currently dabbling in philately.

Quinn read the greeting card, which had a big "Thank you!" in blue glowing script on the front of it. When he opened the card, he was greeted with Danny's neat engineering block letters. Ian was in one of his favorite spots in the galaxy -- tucked cozily into Quinn's side, with his husband's arm curling around his shoulders -- where he could read the letter along with him.

Dear Quinn,

Even after all of these years, it still seems strange not to call you Professor Masterson.

Today is the 10th anniversary of the graduation ceremony celebrating my Ph.D. at Luke.

I literally could not have done it without you. Everyone else was ready to give up on me, but you took me under your wing when I needed it the most, so I have my doctorate thanks to your kindness and expertise.

Here is something for you to commemorate this occasion, with my heartfelt thanks.

Love,  
Danny

"A letter like this is more than gift enough," Quinn said, his voice rough with emotion.

Ian nodded into his guid-man's shirt. "Absolutely. I feel like framing it."

Quinn breezed his fingertips through soft copper spikes. "Ah, darlin', you honor me."

Ian gave him the best answer of all when he angled his head in the perfect position for a luscious kiss. Then his eyes drifted back to the box. "I wonder what it could be," he said, his eyes bright as he picked up the package and sized it up, just like a kid on Christmas Day. He handed it to his husband with a grin.

"Why don't you open it, lad?" Quinn said, handing back the box with an indulgent smile. He loved to see the boyish side of his herven come out to play.

Ian's blue-green eyes lit up like an Adegan crystal, which turned out to be a promise of things to come. He opened the package with care, first removing the wrapping paper, which was decorated with stars and planets against a midnight-blue background. Then he untucked the lid of the interior container and moved the tissue paper aside gently, only to gasp when he saw the contents.

Quinn gasped too -- peeking out from the blue paper was the hilt of a lightsaber, enclosed in a rectangular Lucite display case. Its sleek silver and black lines spoke of "an elegant weapon for a more civilized age," as Obi-Wan had called it. There was a small presentation card almost hidden by the packaging. He read it aloud in his lilting voice:

"This is an original prop used by the character of Qui-Gon Jinn in the making of "The Phantom Menace" in 1998. Wield it as wisely as Master Jinn did. May the Force be with you."

It was signed 'Propmaster Jacob Sorenson' to authenticate the 'saber.

Ian's "Wow!" blended beautifully with his herven's whistle. Quinn took the lightsaber out of the box carefully and set it on the table so both of them could admire its simple beauty. It looked freshly polished and gleamed in the soft light of the living room. The 'saber seemed to call to Quinn's hand and when he picked it up, the grip was perfect for him, as if he were Master Jinn himself. Something in the lightsaber resonated deep within him. "Balance in the Force," he said softly, with the barest whisper of the emotions coursing through him.

"Looks like it was made for you," marveled Ian, gazing up at him with sparkling eyes.

"That it does, laddie." The last time Quinn had felt like this had been in Colonial Williamsburg, back in 2003 at Christmastime. He had tried on a reproduction of a periwig from the 18th century, with a fall of long chestnut hair slightly dusted with powder. Ian and he had looked at each other with a shared sense of deja vu because it seemed like the peruke belonged on him.

Quinn felt the same way about Qui-Gon's lightsaber.

"What color would you pick for your beam?" Ian asked, although he already knew the answer from someplace deep inside himself.

"Green, of course," Quinn replied jauntily.

"Suits you, Master," said Ian simply. "And as you probably can guess, I would pick blue."

Quinn's eyes shone as blue as Obi-Wan's lightsaber. "That's my Padawan."

They exchanged an identical look to their Williamsburg Moment all those years ago. Then Quinn put the lightsaber back in its Lucite presentation case to keep it pristine and free from puppy fur.

Quinn said, " I think we should store this alongside the original Obi-Wan braid Bant gifted you with for our wedding in Massachusetts."

"Good idea. The 'saber and braid are meant to be together." Ian grinned in satisfaction.

They got up from the couch, with Quinn giving Ian a little Force-assist, and ambled over to their teak bookcase, where the braid sat in its own display case. It was on the top shelf, in the place of honor. Ian moved their "Lord of the Rings" books over to the right so Quinn's new treasure could fit there, proudly alongside Bant's present from 2005.

They simply gazed at the two gifts for a long time, satisfied down to their bones.

Finally, the irrepressible Ian said, "Is that a lightsaber on your bookshelf, or are you just glad to read me?"

Quinn let out the happiest groan Ian had ever heard and gave him an incandescent kiss.


End file.
